


Had She Lived

by Sage8771



Series: The Bride [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Happy Memories, Pain, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-24 22:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16184129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sage8771/pseuds/Sage8771
Summary: Negan's daughter reaches a milestone, and it brings up old pains as he thinks about how his life should have gone.





	Had She Lived

   “Nora, dinner’s ready. Come on down!”

   I was tempted to add, _‘You’re the next contestant on the Price is Right’_ , but it would be lost on her, so I bit back my super awesome joke and pulled the chicken pot pie out of the oven, setting it in the middle of the table. I waited until after I filled our glasses and set our plates down next to each other before finally getting pissed enough to climb the steps up to her room.

   When I opened the door, it was empty, even though her crap was scattered all over the floor after I’d specifically asked her to clean it up.

   Light was peeking out of the bottom of her bathroom door and I rapped lightly before turning the knob.

   “Don’t come in!”

   Nora pressed it closed with a panicked sound, and I immediately started to sweat, nervous that something had happened to her. Was she fucking bit or something?

   “Princess, what’s wrong?”

   “Just get Aunt Sherry please,” she barked out in a shaky voice as I waffled on whether or not to just push my way in.

   “Honey, please tell me what’s going on,” I tried again, but she didn’t reply.

   As I started down the steps, it finally hit me what might be happening, and I nearly pitched forward out of shock and despair. Fucking hell, why now?

   The pot pie was still releasing wisps of steam as I shoved my feet into my boots, going out the kitchen door in a huff. Daryl was leaning against the fence talking to Brianna, his longtime girlfriend. I personally thought that she was ugly as shit, but she seemed to make him happy. He’d mourned Debbie for nearly two years, reverting to the standoffish shithead that he was when we met after she died, but now he was somewhat more approachable. Apparently, Daryl’s demeanor was improved when his Johnson was being played with on the regular.

   He saw me out of the corner of his eye, pushing himself upright, and Brianna gave me a warm smile.

   “Hey, Negan. What’s up?”

   “Is Sherry around?”

   “I think she’s in the barn with Adam closing the animals up for the night,” Brianna gestured behind her, and I waved them off, including Daryl’s questioning look.

   Sherry was indeed in the barn, her arm wrapped around Adam’s shoulders as they came walking towards the doors, and the little guy ran towards me with a grin.

   “Uncle Negan, I lost my last tooth,” he announced as I gave him a hug, bending down to see that his molar was gone, and a bloody gaping hole was now there.

   “That’s freaking awesome, buddy,” I said as Sherry watched with a smile. When he’d first called me Uncle, I could tell that it was a shock to her all those years ago, the architect of 90 percent of her pain becoming someone important to her child, but eventually, she came to accept me. Accept who I was now and that I wasn’t going anywhere. Nora was too happy here, too much a part of this community, and we’d finally had it out.

   I sat there as she unleashed years of pain that I’d been directly responsible for in her life and I took it, the same way I’d done with Dwight. Believe me, it fucking sucks to hear what an asshole you are, but I did it. It was years in the making, but when it was over, we were able to co-exist, if not become friends, for Nora’s sake.

   Dwight, Sherry, Daryl. Everyone here was her family, her life, and I inserted myself into it with gusto because I had to. I had to make this work, because my daughter was _my_ life. She was all I had and all I was ever going to get.

   “Hey, Sher, I need you for a second,” I told her, starting towards my cabin with the two of them following behind me. “Uh, Nora needs your help with something.”

   She caught on immediately, sending Adam home to Dwight, and when we got inside, she shot up the steps. I could hear her knock on the door, hear it open and close, and I sat down heavily at the table.

   For years, Nora and I had been best buddies, attached at the hip. Where I went, she did, and vice versa. I’d watched her grow from headstrong toddler to headstrong young girl and I couldn’t be prouder of her. Living in this shitfuck world where walkers still outnumbered the living was a bleak fucking prospect, especially for an adult, but she never got down, never questioned what we needed to do to live. She just did it. I taught her to ride. Well, Uncle Rick did, actually, but I taught her to shoot and I taught her to use a knife.

   She could kill walkers if she needed to, and she knew when to run. Uncle Daryl showed her how to hunt and which berries were safe. Nora was tough, she was going to be a survivor, but she was no longer my best buddy. My little jokes seemed to annoy her lately, and more often than not, she’d retreat to her room or head out to the other cabins rather than just hang out with me.

   I tried not to take it personally, because I knew that she was going through changes, but it sucked, I tell ya. Rejection was not something that I handled well, even from a kid. I wanted to be loved, and I wanted her to always look at me like I was her hero.

   Suprisingly, Michonne was the one that would talk me down from the ledge more often than not, speaking in soothing tones when I’d start ranting over the radio.

   “Hang in there,” she’d advise, having dealt with it herself. “She’ll come back to you, she’s just going through stuff.”

   So, I kept my normally chatty mouth shut, giving her space. Now, I had a blossoming young lady upstairs and it made my heart ache because the one person that should be here to guide her through, wasn’t.

   Ten minutes later, Nora and Sherry came down hand in hand, and Sherry murmured a few more words to her, then she motioned for me to meet her outside. I gave Nora a smile that wasn’t returned, stifling a sigh as I stepped back into the dusky heat.

   “Well, she definitely got her first period,” Sherry announced as I grimaced unthinkingly.

   “I don’t need the details,” I held my hands up in defense and she snorted.

   “She’s upset, excited and unnerved. Oh, she also has cramps, so I gave her some aspirin.”

   “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?” I asked, completely lost at this point. Do I congratulate her? Commiserate with her? I mean, what?

   “Just..she’s emotional, so don’t be surprised if she flips out on you or gets weepy. It’s a big change in a girl’s life.”

   “And her father’s,” I quipped, getting a laugh in response.

   “You’re doing a good job, Negan. Marie would be proud.”

   Sherry’s face softened as my throat closed up, because even all these years later, the two of us could barely say her name, and I nodded once. It was all I could do, all I could give, and with a few more words of advice, she headed home, leaving me with a girl who needed her mother more than ever, and she was stuck with me.

   After dinner, a very quiet dinner, she went back upstairs, and like the Cinderfella I was, I cleaned up the kitchen, turning out the lights as I took a cup of whiskey out on the porch, watching the stars as I drank it, chasing out thoughts of my long-dead wife. I spent a lot of time trying to chase them away and hold onto them. It was an odd feeling.

   Not long after heading to bed, my door opened, waking me, and I sat up, turning on the light to see Nora standing there uncertainly.

   “What happened, princess?”

   “Can I…can I lay with you for a while?”

   My heart grew about six sizes as I tried to play it cool, lifting the covers as she climbed in and turned off the light. God, I missed this, when she wanted to just be around me, and I was going to soak it up like a sponge.

   “Dad?” she asked after a few moments of silence, and I turned to my side to face her in the dark.

   “What, honey?”

   “Is Michelle your girlfriend?”

   Michelle.

   Michelle came to our community about two years before, and had I not lived through what I had, I would’ve been all over her like white on rice. She was in her early thirties, and she was a looker, with long, brown hair and blue eyes. Besides that, she was nice. She was just a genuinely nice person, and she worked her ass off to contribute to making this place successful. We’d grown from half a dozen people in the beginning to over fifty residents. Cabins had been built, more barns, and a garden that put my old one in Alexandria to shame. But she wasn't my Angel.

   “No,” I told her in a clear, concise tone. “Michelle is my friend and she’s a girl, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because I’m done with that part of my life, Nora. I’m just not interested.”

   “But, don’t you think that Mom would want you to be happy?”

   That brought me up short, and I have to admit that I’d wondered that myself. It wasn’t like I didn’t still have urges, and Michelle was a great person, but…I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to kiss her and I couldn’t even attempt anything else.

   “I _am_ happy, Nora. I’ve got a roof over my head, the best daughter in the world, and good friends. I don’t need anything else.”

   “I just worry that you’re lonely, Dad. Daryl has Brianna, Uncle Dwight and Aunt Sherry, Uncle Rick and Aunt Michonne. Even Uncle Jesus and Uncle Aaron. Everyone has someone but you.”

   Jesus, did she think I was a loser that couldn’t get a date?

   “I don’t want anyone else, baby. I’m not interested in another relationship, at least for now,” I told her, and she reached out for my hand as if to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. “Just because I’m alone, it doesn’t mean I’m lonely. Your Mom is a hard act to follow, and I’m not going to be with someone just because. I’m not that kind of guy.”

   Not anymore.

   She seemed to accept that, snuggling into the pillow next to me. Once her breathing evened out, I crept out of bed, snatching a picture off of the nightstand on my way back out to the living room.

   Sometimes Marie’s face was etched into my brain like someone had branded her there, destroying brain cells in the process, and other times, I struggled to recall how her voice sounded and what she smelled like. I only had two pictures of her, and they were fading with time, so I kept them inside frames by my bed.

   In the one, she’d just given birth to Nora, and she was looking down at her. She was still full from the pregnancy, reminding me of when I’d seen her after being locked in the cell in Alexandria for a year. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and the camera had caught just a hint of a smile in her face, the baby turned towards her.

   In the other, she was still pregnant, and it was like my Angel had descended to earth. An Earth mother in the making, with that reddish-brown hair and green eyes, a look of serenity and happiness that made my heart swell each time I looked at it. In those moments, I could recall how she would look at me, like I was the man of her dreams.

   Dreams.

   She haunted my dreams, even after all these years. Good times, bad times. She was there in them all. Sometimes to reassure me, and others just to remind me of what I’d lost. My partner in fucking life was haunting me in her death, and I couldn’t tell you how many times I’d wake up with tears on my cheeks and hands that were reaching out for someone that wasn’t there.

   How different would our lives be if she were here? How much better would Nora’s life be if I’d been the one that died instead of her? Marie could’ve done a much better job, I’m sure. She always joked that our kid looked so much like me, but she didn’t see Nora now. She didn’t know how much she’d impacted her life, from the green in her eyes to the gentleness of her heart. Her ability to know right from wrong, and just the goddamned beauty. My kid was a beautiful thing, from her head to her toes.

   Sometimes late at night, I’d imagine scenarios in my head. We’d have another kid, a boy. It would take me a few years to convince Marie to expand our family, but she’d give in because she loved me. He’d look exactly like me but have her good-natured personality. We’d raise them to be smart. Fighters, but only when they’d need to be. They’d grow up to be healthy and strong, and we’d send them out into the world prepared.

   She and I would grow old together, and she’d never tire of my corny jokes, laughing even when they fucking sucked. We’d spend our nights on the back patio under the lights, cuddled up on the lounge chairs, and I’d smell her hair, feeling her body heat bleed into mine. We would’ve had a wonderful life.

   Had she lived.

**Author's Note:**

> It was bittersweet to go back to this world, but this conversation, this feeling about Negan thinking about Marie kept poking at me, and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
